


Snowflakes

by Jen27ny



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, Gen, Nightmares, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:13:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21877948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jen27ny/pseuds/Jen27ny
Summary: Tony just wants to see his kids happy - which means letting Morgan stick as many snowflakes to the window as she likes, and making Peter talk about his nightmares.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Tony Stark & Morgan Stark
Comments: 19
Kudos: 237
Collections: Iron Dad Secret Santa 2019





	Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [baloobird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/baloobird/gifts).



> Hi everyone!
> 
> This is my entry for the [Iron Dad Secret Santa](https://irondadsecretsanta.tumblr.com/)! I got the amazing [baloobird](https://baloobird.tumblr.com/) and her prompts were Christmas fluff, Protective Tony Stark, and Nightmare ending in fluff. So, me being totally indecisive and loving all those prompts, I tried to include them all. 
> 
> Enjoy! :)

Tony watches as Morgan sticks another snowflake on the window. “That’s perfect,” he praises. That is snowflake number 64. And that’s only counting the ones on the windows. When the house was designed, they added all the windows to add more natural light, to make it feel warmer. They hadn’t thought about all the potential space for fake snowflakes. Which is one of their bigger mistakes. “Say, Morguna, how many more snowflakes do you want to add?”

Morgan looks inside the box, humming while she choses the next decoration. “All of them.”

“Of course. That’s what I thought,” Tony said, dutifully handing her the next snowflake that promptly joins the other ones. There are a lot over one hundred snowflakes in the box left. “Who wants to see outside anyway?”

“Exactly,” Morgan agrees, stumbling a bit over the word. “The snowflakes are prettier.”

“ _Way_ prettier.” As she sticks the snowflake onto the last empty space on the window, Tony can’t help but smile, feeling happy and content despite the absurd number of snowflakes in their home.

It started completely innocent. A few days ago, a warm front hit the States, wiping out all hopes for any snow on Christmas. Morgan hasn’t been pleased, and Tony physically can’t say no to her whenever she starts to pout (which is a problem, he’s working on it; but it’s not going well), so he started to fix the problem. However, everyone around him seems to make this especially difficult for him. Strange didn’t want to magically fabricate some snow or even teleport some to the lake house from like, the Himalayas or Antarctica, Pepper forbid him from building a snow machine, and Thor said he can’t conjure up snow. Which is absolutely ridiculous. What’s the point of having a god as a friend if he can’t make snow?

Luckily, Tony still had his lab and equipment similar enough to a 3D-printer. It only took a few hours to make all the decorations one’s heart could desire – and Morgan is taking full advantage of them. Delicate, three-dimensional snowflakes are hanging from the ceiling, glittering whenever the lights hit them in the right way and covering every inch of the ceiling. A gigantic sled with eight, full-sized reindeer-statues stands in their front yard, having Gerald eyeing it suspiciously. There are so many ornaments on the Christmas tree that you can barely recognize it. The windows are plastered with flat snowflakes – some of them are transparent, so at least some sun light can get inside.

At that point, it would’ve been ridiculous for him to just stop inhabiting the Christmas spirit, so Tony continued to christmasfy, well, _everything_. Handmade stockings hang over their mantel, a small army of Christmas cards from their friends above them. He ordered twenty different Christmas sweaters for each one of his family members. Every morning, Morgan and he match their outfits, having Pepper taking at least 10 pictures of them – sometimes, they even get her to join them. He mastered the art of making the perfect hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows, and found an absolutely delicious, kind of addictive cookie recipe.

It’s entirely too much and over the top and absolutely perfect.

And it’s not like Tony really has anything else to do. After defeating Thanos, he officially retired as Iron Man. The suit is still in their home, but only for absolute emergencies. He even semi-retired as the head of the R&D department at Stark Industries, only occasionally dropping by to say hello and help out if they need a fresh pair of eyes – and a genius brain. But besides that? It is full on stay-at-home dad, packing Morgan’s lunch in the morning, driving her to kindergarten (which was a _very_ tough decision for him, but Pepper insisted she needs friends her own age), kissing Pepper good-bye when she leaves for work, and doing household chores until the women in his life return. Compared with his life before – the extravagance, the big mansions, the partying, the fame, the adventures, the danger – it is absolutely mundane and boring. Just the way Tony wants it. He is so ready for boring, especially when he can be boring with his family.

Thinking about his family, Tony looks over to the lump on the couch that hasn’t moved for almost two hours. The lump is no other than Peter Parker in his own corny sweater, curled up in himself with the softest blanket thrown over him, and dead asleep. He has sworn that he would make it through _Frozen_ , but he fell asleep before Anna had asked Elsa to build a snowman with her. For a second, the mechanic just stares at the boy. That is something he started to do a lot after the blip. Like he still can’t believe that Peter is really back, breathing and entirely not-dusted. After five agonizing years, it feels too good to be true. Like a dream, and in the beginning when he was still recovering from his near-death experience and loosing his arm, he had to often remind himself that this is not a dream. It’s finally reality. 

However, the longer Tony looks at the boy, the more he notices that something isn’t right. Peter’s eyebrows are slightly furrowed. His eyes move frantically behind closed eyelids. Every now and again, he flinches from his dream, curling more and more into himself. An almost soundless whimper escapes his lips.

Tony recognizes what this is at once. A nightmare. Which is the reason why the boy is even here right now.

* * *

_Tony doesn’t visit the city that much anymore. He quite likes his hermit-esque life with only the people he actually wants to see stopping by. After a lifetime in the spotlight, privacy is such a nice change. But every once in a while, he makes the trip to New York, either to visit his favorite young adult or to deal with something SI related. The later being the reason for this trip. One of their researchers retires at the end of the year, and Tony wanted to have another chat with him, genuinely liking the older man. He had always looked at Tony’s ideas and instead of saying they’re impossible right from the start, he actually tried to figure out if they could work – and then he’d said they’re impossible and Tony had to prove everyone wrong by doing it himself._

_Tony is on his way up to Pepper’s office after finishing his talk with the scientist, when he gets FRIDAY’s alert. On the HUD of his glasses appears a small spider-logo, blinking almost aggressively in a bright red color. That is never good. “What’s going on, FRI?” Tony asks, already fumbling for the device that holds the nanobots. Yes, Iron Man is retired. But he is still paranoid and Peter has the absolutely annoying habit of getting into trouble, so he always carries it around whenever he leaves the house._

“His AI sent a distress signal _.”_ _It’s getting worse. It means that Peter either tries to hide his problem or that he is already unconscious. As Tony steps out of the elevator and dashes to the closest balcony, he really hopes it isn’t the latter._

_The flight to Peter’s location – a dark alley in Queens – doesn’t take too long, and when Tony lands, Spider-Man in the Iron Spider suit is slumped against a wall, his head in his hands, shoulders raising and falling with every exaggerated breath. It doesn’t even take Tony a second to realize that he has a panic attack, but something else demands his attention first. Spider-Man isn’t alone. Two men are closing in one him. One of them carrying a gun, the other one a knife that glints in the streetlights. They look the complete opposite of happy, eyes obsessively fixed on the young vigilante, and Tony doubts that Peter notices them right now, despite having a literally sixth sense that warns him of danger._

_Luckily, he doesn’t always need to rely on that. Tony lands between them with a loud thud. “Yeah, that’s not happening,” he says, his voice (not really surprisingly) dark. The men blink, but Tony has already raised his arm and shoots them, sending both of them flying straight into the wall and falling to the ground unconscious. There are probably better ways to deal with a situation like this – definitely more publicity friendly ways – but Tony doesn’t really care right now. All he cares about is keeping Peter safe._

_After reassuring himself that the men aren’t going to move anytime soon, Tony turns around, his helmet retracting. Peter is still sitting there, barely noticing anything. From up close, Tony can see him shaking. “Hey, buddy,” he says as he steps closer and kneels down. Still no reaction. After contemplating it for a second, Tony gently places a hand on his shoulder._

_That breaks the superhero out of his stupor. He jumps a bit before his head shoots up, the large eyes of his mask blinking owlishly. “M’st’r S’rk?” he mumbles, swallowing half of the letters._

_Tony grins and tries to look as calm as possible, even though his concern is growing at a, well,_ concerning _rate. “The one and only.”_

_“What-“ Peter looks around. He can’t see the two unconscious bodies behind Tony which is why the man doesn’t move an inch, even though his knees are already aching. “You’re in Queens? Why?”_

_“I had some stuff to do in the city, and then FRIDAY got Karen’s alert.” Peter averts his eyes, most likely out of guilt. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”_

_“It’s nothing,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “Karen totally overreacted. I’m fine. You shouldn’t have come- I mean, I’m always happy to see you, of course, but you probably had really important stuff to do and I have everything under control and-“_

_“After all this time, you still think I can’t see through your lies?” Tony keeps his voice as light as possible, even though he is pretty frustrated with the boy’s behavior. Because if Tony hadn’t arrived when he did, Peter would spend the next few days in the medbay. “Just a quick reminder: you’re a terrible liar. I don’t know how you manage to keep good old Spidey’s identity a secret.”_

_For a second, it looks like Peter wants to protest, but then his shoulders drop down a few inches. The mask retracts and Tony has to remind himself to say calm. The boy doesn’t look good. He’s way too pale. The kind of pale that makes Tony want to check him for any major injuries. The space underneath his eyes is dark from sleepless nights, and his cheeks are fallen in. Tony’s parental side wants nothing more than to scoop him up, shove some food down his throat, and tug him into bed, but he stays quiet. For now._

_“’m sorry,” Peter apologizes, eyes fixed on the dirty pavement between them. “And… thanks for stopping by.”_

_“You know I will always come if you need my help.” Peter doesn’t react. “Hey. Look at me, kiddo.” He meets his eyes again. “Whenever you need my help, I will help you. No questions asked, no strings attached, no conditions, no matter what. Capiche?”_

_Slowly, Peter’s lips pull into a soft smile – but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Capiche.”_

_“Great. Now, should we try that again? What’s going on?”_

_“I just… I’m just really tired.” That’s probably an understatement, judging by the state Peter is in._

_“Can’t sleep?” Tony carefully inquires, and Peter nods. “Nightmares?” An indecisive shrug and a lot of fiddling. For a second, Tony thinks about what to do. “How about we go back to your apartment? Get out of the suits, make something warm to drink, and have a nice chat.”_

_That is the wrong thing to say. Tony can literally see the walls behind Peter’s eyes going up again. So, new plan. “Or we could go to the lake house.” That gets Peter’s attention. He loves the house by the lake and everything it represents; family, peace, love, quiet. “I mean, your school break already started, right? We could go right now, my car is still at the Tower. Unless you want an Iron Man-shaped cab.”_

_A short chuckle comes from Peter, which Tony defines as a huge success, but the boy sobers up quickly. “But… it’s almost Christmas.”_

_“Perfect. You’re suppose to spend it with your family anyway, right? Then that’s exactly where I want you to be.” Peter’s eyes grow bigger and bigger. Like he still can’t believe Tony could see him as anything else besides an obligation. Like Tony hasn’t invented actual, real time travel to get his boy back. “May is invited, too, of course. She can come over as soon as she’s off from work. Pepper won’t mind, Morgan will definitely not mind, and Happy and Rhodey are going to be there, too. Without you, kiddo, it wouldn’t be my entire family.”_

_Tears are starting to well up in Peter’s eyes, and for the fraction of a second, Tony thinks he said the wrong thing. Just because he had five years to come to terms with the love he holds for the boy, doesn’t mean that Peter reached the same stage. But then, a smile creeps back on his face – this time, making his eyes shine and sparkle. “Yeah?”_

Ugh, such a teenager thing. _Tony doesn’t notice the smile on his face. “Yeah.” They bask in the moment, forgetting the unfortunate circumstances that brought them to it. But then, Tony decides this is mushy enough for him. He may be retired, but he still has a reputation to uphold. “That settles it, then. And since you didn’t answer my cab question, I’ll choose. And I choose the Iron Man shape.” Peter can only blink before Tony grabs him underneath his armpits and shoots into the sky._

* * *

Tony brought him to the house last night, and while the change of his surroundings did relax Peter, it hasn’t had the effect Tony has hoped for. This morning, FRIDAY has told him that the boy slept a total of two hours and three minutes throughout the night. When he fell asleep during the movie, Tony has been relieved, glad that the boy got some rest, even though that meant he had to watch _Frozen_ for the 35th time with Morgan.

But now, it doesn’t seem like Peter is getting any more rest. 

“Hey Morgan,” Tony gently says, looking back at his daughter, “why don’t you go to your room for a second and make sure that the number of the snowflakes is a prime number?”

Morgan turns her head to look at him, her lips pulled into a pout, and she looks so much like Pepper, despite the dark hair and eyes, that Tony has to remind himself who is sitting in front of him. However, whatever thought raced through her little head vanishes and she just smiles, grabbing the box with the remaining snowflakes out of his hands. “Okay!”

He listens to her loud stumbles as she races up the stairs before he rushes to the couch, kneeling down in front of him. “Buddy,” he says, shaking his shoulder, “wake up.” Peter doesn’t wake up. Instead, he curls up in himself even more, the frowning turning into a full grimace. “Peter, listen to me. It’s just a dream. Whatever it is, it’s not real.” Tony continues to shake his shoulder, slowly getting more and more forceful to break him out of his own, agonizing thoughts.

Suddenly, Peter’s eyes fly open, full of panic and unfocused, while he sucks in a deep breath. Tony runs a hand through his hair, cooing softly to calm him down. “Mr. Stark?” Peter breathes, his eyes landing on his face, jumping from one spot to the next, like he really has to make sure this is real.

“Always,” Tony answers. “You just had a bad dream, but you’re okay now. No need to be afraid.” For a second, it looks like Peter wants to say something, his mouth already open, but he stops himself. Instead, he sits up, the blanket sliding down into his lap, and Tony takes the initiative and sits besides him. “Wanna talk? And when I form that as a question, it’s no question at all. Don’t be fooled. We _are_ going to talk.”

Peter looks like he wants to do literally anything else than talk right now, but he complies. Maybe whatever is bothering him is actually worse than Tony has anticipated. “They’re just stupid nightmares.”

“They’re not stupid if they bother you so much.” The boy doesn’t answer, but when Tony continues to gently work through the mess that Peter calls his hair, he leans into the touch. “What are they about?”

“Just… everything,” Peter finally confesses, eyes fixed on the seams of his sleeves. “It’s like every nightmare I ever had is making a reappearance right now, and I don’t know why or how to stop it or how to make it better.”

“Okay,” Tony says quickly, before Peter can continue to spiral, “okay, that’s fine.” He gets a side-glance from the teenager. “I mean, it’s obviously not fine that you’re having nightmares, but we can work on that. First step to solving a problem is admitting that there is one.”

“Have you been reading self-help books?”

“I have a lot of free time to pass, okay?” He gets a weak chuckle from Peter. “So. Nightmares. Do you want to tell me any specifics?”

Everything about his body language screams that Peter doesn’t want to, and Tony is half thinking of another way to approach this, but then Peter actually does answer the question. “It’s a lot of things. Planes. Spiders. Ben. Being trapped. Titan.” He sucks in a breath and Tony just knows what’s coming. The place where his robotic arm meets his torso aches. “You on the battlefield.”

After Tony has snapped his fingers, he has been convinced that that was the end for him. That he wouldn’t be able to open his eyes again if he closed them. A calmness has taken over when he saw Rhodey, Pepper, and Peter around him, glad that he could have one last look at them, and he closed his eyes. But then, he has actually opened them again, days later in a hospital bed and with only one arm. Beaten, bruised, one arm lighter, and drugged up on pain meds, but very much alive.

It turns out, watching your mentor/father-figure die in front of your is just as traumatizing as watching your mentee/quasi-son turning into dust. Meaning a lot. For the first few weeks, Peter has done a bizarre dance between not being able to look at him while also needing to be close to him. It got better eventually, but only after Tony built his own robotic arm and Helen healed the scarring the best she could.

For a second, Tony doesn’t know what to say. They only talked about Titan, Thanos, and the five years in between scantily. Everything is still too fresh and hurtful, the possibilities of what could have happen too daunting. They should probably all go to therapy to deal with their traumas, but in true superhero-fashion all the Avengers just swallow down their feelings, bottling them up until the pressure becomes too much and everything explodes. Which is most likely what is happening right now.

With his hand in Peter’s hair, Tony brings him closer to him until his head rest on the man’s shoulder. “You know that they say dreams are just your brain trying to process what happened to you, right? I think that’s what’s happening.” Peter makes a noise that is somewhere between a whimper and a groan. “You yourself said that this is the first time since the blip you actually got to relax. This is like healing. The second your body doesn’t think it has to fight or run on adrenaline, it starts to work on all the wounds that need to be patched up. Your brain works similar to that. It knows you are safe now and that you have the time to work on all of… what happened. And maybe coming back from the soul stone has something to do with all the older nightmares coming up.”

“That actually sounds pretty smart.”

“Of course, it does. I’m a genius.” The teenager snorts and Tony allows himself to smile before getting serious again. “And because I’m smart and a genius, listen to what I’m saying right now.” He actually waits a second for Peter to angle his head a bit, giving Tony more of his attention. “They can’t hurt you anymore. It’s in the past. Sure, they’re scary but they have no real impact anymore. You are safe from them.”

For a long moment, Peter doesn’t react to it. Doesn’t mutter a single word, doesn’t fidget, barely draws a breath. Tony just stays still, waiting for what is going to happen next while simultaneously thinking of another way to ease Peter’s pain away. But then, Peter takes a deep breath and says, “They still suck, though.”

Tony huffs out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, they always do. That’s why they’re nightmares.” Peter agrees with a mumble as Tony runs his fingers through his hair again. “But they’re just in your head. They’re not real, even if they seem like it.” Before he repeats himself even more, Tony adds, “I’m not dead.” Instead of going still again like Tony anticipated, Peter moves away a bit, just far enough so he can look him in the face. His eyes are wide and so full of emotions, everything in Tony screams at him to make Peter feel better. “I’m not. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“Promise?” Peter asks in a small, hopefully voice.

“Promise.” Tony smiles. Throwing all caution into the wind and just following his dad-instinct, he drops a quick kiss on Peter’s curls. The boy stiffens, obviously surprised by the gesture, but then he basically melts into Tony’s side, laying his head back on his shoulder. Even through his thick sweater, Tony can feel Peter’s smile. “And if it’s getting all too much, you can always call me to talk to me. No matter what time or whatever.”

“Does that mean you’re okay with calls every night at two thirty?”

“Buddy, I’m raising a kid. Do you know how oft I wake up every night to check on the little spawn of Satan?”

“Wait, was the Daily Bugle right? You _are_ Satan?”

“Watch it, Spider-Boy, or I’m uploading every Baby Monitor footage of you falling on your face to YouTube.” Peter laughs – not a halfhearted chuckle or something along those lines, but an actual, uncontainable laugh. It’s so contagious, Tony has to join in. The knot in his chest loosens a bit, a light, fuzzy feeling taking place in his chest instead.

“Speaking of Morgan…”

As if on cue, Tony can hear the familiar stumble of two feet running down the stairs. Seeing Tony and Peter on the couch, she leaps forward, throwing herself on their laps with a maniac giggle, and thanks to Peter’s enhanced reflexes she doesn’t crack open her head on the side table. “Daddy, there were 140 snowflakes in my room!” she reports excitingly. “I added 9 more to have a prime number!” To show them how many she added, Morgan holds up nine fingers.

“Because simply taking one away would have been silly,” Tony deadpans. Morgan nods solemnly, not quite getting the joke, and Peter tries really hard to suppress a chuckle and fails.

“You missed all of Frozen,” she tells Peter, like it is a tragedy. Which, for her, it clearly is.

Peter pulls a fake sad face. “I know. Guess we just have to watch it again.”

“Or,” Tony throws in, not ready to watch Hans con Anna once more, “we could make some cookies. The dough chilled long enough.” Morgan’s face lights up, and she jumps from their laps with an excited squeal (almost smacking them in their faces while doing it) and runs into the kitchen, already looking for her favorite cookie cutters.

“You just want to get out of watching it again,” Peter jokes as they follow the little ball of energy into the kitchen.

“Of course, I am. I’ve watched that movie 35 times already.”

“What makes you think _I_ haven’t watched it 35 times?”

Tony stops and turns to Peter, his expression full of disbelieve. “On purpose?”

The boy grins back and softly sings: “ _Do you want to build a snowman_?”

“Stop it right now or I’m burning all of your presents.” Peter laughs again, obviously not worried about the welfare of his presents, and Tony throws an arm around his shoulders, steering him into the kitchen. “C’mon. I’ve made some special cookie cutters for you. Star Wars themed.” Peter’s face lights up the same way Morgan does.

The next few hours, Tony helps one of his kids build an edible Death Star while trying to control his other kid that is on a sugar high. He wouldn’t change a single thing about it.


End file.
